Fallout
by MG312
Summary: What happened in the days after Philip and Elizabeth fled to Russia, leaving Paige and Henry behind? This is my version of what they left in their wake... A 16 chapter (sorry!) short story I will try to update weekly!
1. Prologue

The Americans

Prologue

To the uninitiated, "The Americans" is a series that ran for 6 seasons on FX TV channel, between 2013 and 2018. It is set in the United States of America in the 1980's.

Spoiler alert! If you have not watched this series to the end, or if you have not yet watched it, this Prologue contains details of how it all pans out.

Philip and Elizabeth Jennings are KGB Directorate 'S' agents, known as "illegals", living in Washington DC. They were both born in Russia, selected and trained in their mid to late teens for assignments abroad. Having never met, they were introduced to each other in the months before their move to Canada in the mid 1960's. They were intensively trained, a wide ranging, lengthy and sometimes brutal preparation for their future roles. They arrived in the US via Canada, a safer route and an easier way to acclimatise to the American way of life. The time spent there helped establish their identities, careers and social skills, at the same time fine tuning their knowledge and understanding of the great differences between the lives they had known growing up in post war Russia and those of their peers in a far more prosperous and free-living setting.

Their identities were created from the records of real people who had died at a young age, a common method at the time for criminals and foreign agents to create a cover story with real roots. Nobody who knew Philip or Elizabeth suspected that they were anything other than true Americans, so convincing was their appearance, actions and way of speaking without any trace of an accent.

Over the next twenty years they integrate into society as a married couple, although their marriage was not that of a normal couple. To anyone in their social circles or work environment nothing would appear to be out of the ordinary, so well did they play their parts in public. In reality, Elizabeth could not find love in her relationship especially in the early years, instead she forged working relationships in her undercover work, one of which became a lasting and close friendship with Gregory, a disaffected and disillusioned black American. Their relationship became sexual very early on and carried on for many years. He was Elizabeth's first recruit.

Early on they established a travel agency business, which gave them the perfect cover for travelling the country in their secret role as KGB agents. None of their work colleagues or personal friends noticed anything amiss, with the exception of their close neighbour Stan Beeman.

Stan and his family moved in to the house almost directly opposite the Jennings in 1981. They soon struck up a close friendship, particularly Stan and Philip, with similar interests in Racquet Ball. There was one very major issue at play here, unknown to Stan. In the days after he and his family moved in, Philip asked what he did for a living. Stan replied, "I'm an FBI agent." If Philip and Elizabeth found this a shock, the next revelation rocked their world - Stan's main role was in counter-intelligence, focusing in particular on the location of Soviet "illegals". Fate had brought the hunter and hunted together as friends and neighbours, and only one side knew the truth.

This knowledge underpinned all future dealings, creating a great deal of tension for Philip and Elizabeth. Mere weeks after Stan moved in, the KGB agents were involved in a mission that attracted FBI attention. Stan made a link between the car seen by witnesses as being the same make, model and colour as his new neighbours. He slipped into their garage in the middle of the night, breaking into their car looking for evidence. Elizabeth had carefully cleaned the car to remove any incriminating evidence just hours before, so Stan found nothing, eliminating them from any suspicion in his mind. Unknown to him, Philip was in the garage hidden in the shadows, watching Stan all the time. From that point on, Philip and Elizabeth always avoided bringing operational vehicles home.

The relationship between the Jennings and the Beemans continued without further suspicion on Stan's part until the late 1980's.

Philip and Elizabeth's relationship eventually matured into one based on love and companionship, formed in part by the secrets they both knew of each others activities. Philip had always loved his 'wife', but for Elizabeth love took many years to grow. As trained KGB agents they had both participated in many highly dangerous operations, sometimes involving loss of life of their own fellow Russian colleagues, and sometimes their "assetts" - people they had developed to provide information useful to them. Often they had personally carried out assassinations, eliminating enemies of Russia, or those in a position to expose them, or even some people whose death would be advantageous to their operations. These were almost always on the orders of their own handlers, who directly liaised with the KGB heirarchy in the Soviet Embassy, called the Rezidentura, who in turn liaised with the KGB in Moscow, called the "Center". Even so, their experience had taught them that sometimes a decision had to be made immediately, so Philip and Elizabeth between them were directly or indirectly responsible for the deaths or disappearance of many US citizens, some of them FBI agents.

Did they regret any of these deaths? Almost certainly, although they were always justifiable in their own minds as being necessary to protect their own position or that of mother Russia, their homeland. Elizabeth always appeared to be the stronger of the two, her loyalty to "the cause" being unshakeable in contrast to Philip, who often had doubts, liked the American way of life, and considered defecting at one point for financial security.

Throughout all this, in the period the FX show runs over six seasons, Philip and Elizabeth also manage somehow to raise two children, a true product of their marriage. Paige is just becoming a teenager in 1981, and her brother Henry three years younger. In between running their travel agency business, operating their various spying activities, they also keep their children well grounded and following American values, participating in all the activities usual of American children of the time.

The other theme of their lives and undercover work was the pursuit of information to feed back to their handlers. They did this through a variety of means, but a common method was through sexual liaisons, usually with people having direct access to classified information, or able to plant listening devices in offices. One of these "honeytraps" saw Philip develop a relationship with Martha which lasted a few years, involved a phoney "Marriage" that she completely believed in, until eventually she came under suspicion by her own colleagues. Right until the moment when Philip took her to a safe house, and revealed his true identity and purpose, Martha had no idea that he was a Russian. She had believed that Philip, or "Clark" as she knew him, was working for internal affairs, looking for evidence of "moles" or illegal activity within the FBI. Her world totally blown apart, Martha was immediately smuggled out to Russia and had to adjust to life in a foreign country.

The final season documented the events that led to Philip and Elizabeth fleeing the country and returning to Russia. The tension was heightened in the final episode when Stan Beeman, whose suspicions had been building over recent days, finally put the pieces together and tracked them down to the parking garage underneath Paige's apartment, just as they were returning to their car to set off for Canada – their chosen route out of the country. In the tense exchange that followed, the Jennings admitted their role as KGB agents. Philip appealed to Stan's better nature, despite being ordered to surrender at gun point, and Stan eventually allowed them to pass and escape the country, a clear breach of his responsibility as an FBI agent, a crime to which he could never admit. Why did Stan do this? It was not clearly explained, but the viewer was left with the feeling that his relationship over the years, affection for them as a family and his previous experience working deep undercover himself, caused his resolve to waiver.

This story is inspired by a scene in that final episode, where Stan spoke to Henry Jennings to tell him his parents had left him behind. No words were heard, the scene was very short, leaving the viewer to imagine how Stan broke the devastating news to Henry.

Acknowledgements

Very briefly, thank you firstly to my wife Julie, who has put up with my obsession with this series, my constant tapping away on the laptop while she tries to watch her own programmes, for buying me the DVD box set for our wedding anniversary.

Secondly, thank you to my three daughters, who have been helpful and supportive in reading this story and commenting as needed.

Finally, thank you, thank you! to the creators, writers, crew and cast of this amazing series which has kept me captivated more than any other series in my 52 years.


	2. Chapter One

One

Stan Beeman was making the long drive north. It was fine as it gave him plenty of time to think. His world had been turned upside down in the last few days, which gave him some appreciation of how Henry Jennings would be feeling in a few hours time. Stan had spent most of the journey turning over in his mind just how you tell a teenage kid that his parents are actually KGB agents, have been for all his young life, and have now fled the country, leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Of course, there was the other scenario: Henry already knew of Philip and Elizabeth's clandestine activities. Based on gut feeling, he didn't think Henry did know, but even if that was the case, someone had to tell him that his parents and sister had left the country without him. Either case, Henry was going to be in for a shock today.

Stan could think of no way to soften this blow, just tell it straight in the gentlest way possible, and answer his questions, which would inevitably come.

As the miles dragged on, the nearer Stan came to his destination, the less he wanted to do this. He had spoken to Dennis in the early hours of this morning to discuss Henry, and had volunteered, demanded really, to be the one to break the news.

Stan and his FBI colleagues had been at the Jennings house throughout the night. After the surveillance operation had revealed Henry's parents as likely KGB illegals, they had gone to the Jennings house and started methodically breaking it apart, searching for evidence. Stan was the only one of his colleagues who knew without doubt. His own personal demons had been battling in his mind since he confronted them in a garage under Paige's apartment block the previous evening.

Philip and Elizabeth Jennings had begun their journey to flee the country by calling to collect Henry's sister Paige. On a hunch, Stan had waited in the street opposite the apartment, having spent a fruitless few hours with a colleague staking out an another location. Stan had spotted his neighbours walking out of the apartment block's front door and into the garage underneath. He crossed the street and followed them into the garage, confronting them in a tense exchange. Although Stan was fully committed to his plan to bring them in for questioning, he hadn't been fully prepared for what was to follow.

He was too emotionally involved, he reflected, having counted Philip as a close personal friend for many years, ever since he moved in next door to them. Stan's statement that Philip had made a joke of Stan's life having fooled him and lied to him all this time, was turned on its head by Philip telling him it was his life that was the joke, not Stan's. Quite why Stan let them go he still couldn't really fathom. Maybe it had something to do with him identifying himself with their situation. Many years before he had spent a long spell working undercover with a white supremacy group, infiltrating them to a high level, only coming out when things got too dangerous, and arrests were being made. The Jennings' was a totally different situation of course, they were on the wrong side, working against his country, whereas his years undercover were for the greater good. Whatever his reason for not arresting his neighbours and friends, he'd tried to rationalise it as thinking they wouldn't escape anyway with the net closing in. Every border guard and state trooper had their picture by now, and Stan would learn very early on if they were caught.

Still didn't make the guilt go away. He should have done his job and he knew it. That was one item of information that would go with him to his grave. No way was he going to let that one slip to anyone, let alone his FBI colleagues.

A couple of hours into the journey when most people were arriving at work, Stan had stopped off to ring Henry's school, St Edwards Academy in New Hampshire, spoke to the principal and arranged his visit. St Edwards is a school where he knew Philip and Elizabeth had paid exorbitant fees, which they were struggling to afford, especially of late with their travel agency business recently failing to make ends meet. Stan had never really considered until now how Soviet illegals made their way financially. He'd always assumed the KGB helped fund their existence, but it would appear that they were expected to pay their way, to make a success of their lives as any ordinary American citizen. He assumed the Soviet government funded certain activities, maybe set them up to start with, but the way Philip had spoken a while ago, it had clearly been a realistic possibility that Henry would be having to find a school nearer home soon.

School fees were certainly going to be an issue in future, Stan realised. He didn't see the US government paying for them, in fact Henry's citizenship itself might be in doubt, so the school fees issue might pale into insignificance in the grand scheme. That would all be above his pay grade of course, but his genuine affection for Henry made him determined to provide whatever protection he could from his fate.

The boys future certainly looked bleak, but in the garage Philip had asked him to look after his son. He also told Stan that Henry was completely innocent and was not involved in any of this. After years of being lied to, Stan could not count on this being the truth, so he would have to rely on his own impressions of Henry to decide for himself.

Out of loyalty to Henry, if the boy really had no inkling of what his parents were, he would do what he could to help him, after all he was now very alone in the world. If Philip, Elizabeth and Paige evaded capture Henry would have no-one, with the possible exception of Stan himself. On the other hand, as was likely, the three fugitive Jennings would end up in custody, and there were no prizes for guessing their fate. The Jennings' life and crimes would certainly become very public. That would be far more traumatic in many ways for Henry, having to visit his parents and sister incarcerated for a very long time, probably eventually exchanged and sent back home to Russia anyway. Stan could only imagine how his schoolmates would react; he would likely be alienated. How the school would treat him was unknown also. No doubt his place was assured for this semester, all fees paid in advance, but what after that? Stan had already made a tentative suggestion that Henry could live with him and his live-in partner Renee if necessary.

Renee. In their parting moments in the garage, Philip had planted a suggestion she might be an illegal also. Could that be true? Certainly anything was possible, as had been proved. Stan found himself thinking through the background checks he would be making, after all he had to be sure of her, especially now she was working for the FBI herself.

His thought process was broken as all too soon Stan saw the school gates ahead, and turned into the grounds with a heavy heart.


	3. Chapter 2

Two

St Edwards Academy was just like thousands of schools across the country. The familiar smell of cleaning fluid mingled with cooked food brought back childhood memories for Stan as he was shown down the main corridor to the Principal's office.

Stan's first impression was that Doug Warner could do with a new suit and change of image. Warner was wearing a dark brown suit in a decade old style. His hairstyle was combed over, unusual in a man in his early forties, Stan thought. Premature balding. At least that was the age Stan guessed at, and he was usually quite on the mark. Still, he had learned that image could be deceptive, what counts is how they act, as Stan well knew. To make principal at that age marked him out as a go-getter, or maybe an ass-licker. Probably the latter fit the bill better, he thought.

Warner offered his handshake, and gestured Stan to a chair in front of a large mahogany desk. A few pleasantries were exchanged, then Warner got down to business.

"So, Agent Beeman, your call intrigued me. Always keen to help the authorities. What is your interest in Henry Jennings?"

"Firstly, I'd like your agreement that this conversation goes no further than these four walls. It's a case of national security, and very serious."

Warner flinched visibly but recovered quickly. "Certainly, you have my word. That being the case, can I just say at this juncture that Henry's personal tutor really should be in on this meeting. She is the one who knows him best here, and she's duty bound to be his first point of contact."

"OK, that makes sense. Will she be long?"

"No, she is aware of your visit and is close by." He pressed the intercom on his desk and spoke to his secretary. "She should be along any minute." He arranged a coffee for them both, and soon after the phone on his desk beeped. "That will be her now." He pressed a button. "Mary, is that Miss Henderson? OK, please send her in."

The door opened, and Miss Henderson walked in, closing it behind her. She shook hands with Stan, who repeated his warning of secrecy.

"Miss Henderson, How much do you know of Henry's parents?" Stan asked of Henry's personal tutor.

"Please call me Joy, agent Beeman. I've only met them a couple of times. Seemed lovely as I recall. Henry mostly talks about his Dad. This morning in fact, he seemed a little withdrawn. When I asked him if everything was OK, he replied 'Fine. Just had a weird telephone call from Mom and Dad last night. Said some strange stuff.' He didn't expand, there was no time to ask more, so I had intended to catch up with him later today until I learned you would be visiting."

 _They phoned him last night, said some 'strange stuff'._ Stan filed that away for later. "Well, here's the bombshell. I've come up here to tell Henry that his parents have left the USA for good. A more appropriate word might be 'fled', actually."

The shock in the room was palpable. Warner asked "Why do you say fled? Are they in trouble?"

"That would be an understatement. Big, big trouble. I can't say exactly what, but it's enough to say that they have been acting against the interests of the United States for a very long time, and if they're caught before they reach any border they are likely to be in jail for a long time. I believe they are probably already out of our reach by now. I have to focus now on telling Henry, in whatever way I can, that he is unlikely ever to see his parents again. Unless there's some major thawing out of relations between the US and the USSR"

This sank in slowly with the two St Edwards staff. Miss Henderson was the first to speak. "You mean they're spies? That's incredible, unbelievable!"

"As I said, I'm not at liberty to reveal the exact nature of their crimes against the USA, but spying is a loose term for what we believe they have been doing."

Warner had been thinking. "I take it that you were on to them, and they escaped before you could arrest them?" There was a hint of _If you'd done your job properly_ in his statement. Not lost on Stan.

"We were gathering evidence, and literally hours away from an arrest."

Warner came back, "So why have they sent you, Agent Beeman? Are you trained for this.." he paused, choosing his words carefully, "this breaking of bad news to a child?"

"I consider Henry to be a young adult actually, and I know him very well as a close family friend. I literally helped raise Henry these last few years. In some ways I feel closer to him than I do to my own son. I think I am the best person to do this."

Warner raised an eyebrow. "So you knew his parents?"

Again Beeman detected an underlying note of condescension in his question, and in answer he simply stared back at the Principal.

"Very well," Warner replied. "Do you want Miss Henderson, Joy, to be there?"

"No, I think it best I speak to him alone. When can I see him?"

Miss Henderson said, "He's just about half way through hockey practice, has about 30 minutes left. We could go down there now?"

Beeman followed Joy down a series of corridors leading to a sports hall, with a few rows of seats, all empty, the centre rink taken up by boys in the middle of a spirited game of ice hockey. Stan said, "I'll just wait here until he's finished." Henry's tutor said she'd be in the background should he need her, and moved away.

Stan spent ten minutes or so watching the game, gathering his final thoughts, trying to identify Henry, a job not so easy with everyone in full ice hockey padded kit. He soon spotted him, confirmed when Henry turned his back, the word "Jennings" clearly visible on his shirt. He was impressed by Henry's forcefulness on the rink, despite not being the tallest he made for an aggressive player, clearly having the respect of his team members and opponents. He recalled Henry and Philip playing hockey in their front yard, and reflected that Philip had commented on more than one occasion how he wanted to prepare his son for the harsh world ahead.

As the game came to a close and the teams gathered round their coach, Henry glanced across in Stan's direction, not really seeing him through the window. Stan rapped on the glass, catching his attention, and Henry's surprise gave way to a big grin. After another moment, the boys started to disperse. Stan walked in to the arena, as Miss Henderson went to have a quiet word with the coach who looked in Stan's direction momentarily, then nodded.

Henry slid to a stop in front of the FBI agent. "Hey Stan! What you doin' here?"

"Just in the area, Henry. Say, can I have a word with you, somewhere away from all your friends?"

They moved away out of earshot, and very quickly they were alone, as all the other students left to change out of their hockey gear. The place quietened down very quickly as they took their seats. Beeman's stomach was tight as he dreaded the task at hand, now shrouding his mind like a suffocating cloak, offering no escape.


	4. Chapter 3

Three

"This looks serious Stan. Is everything OK?"

"No Henry, I'm sorry to say everything is not OK. Your parents and Paige, as far as we know, are safe and well though." He had planned that part, to allay any initial fears Henry might have had about his parents being involved in a car accident or the like.

" ' _As far as you know'_?" Henry repeated his words. There was already a concerned look on his face, like he knew bad news was coming, despite Stan's reassurance.

"Have you heard from your parents recently, Henry?"

"They rang last night. It was a bit weird really, Mom actually spoke to me on the phone. That's not normal. They basically just said "Hi, and we'll see you next week."

"Did anything strike you as strange about the phone call, what they said, or they way they said it?"

"I don't know, I can't say they said anything unusual, except that they love me – they never say that normally. I was just, like, 'why are you calling to tell me this stuff?'" He stopped and looked at Stan. "Why, what's this about?"

Stan had a way of speaking that involved a lot of pauses when he needed to slow things down. He had developed this over many years, and it had helped him out in many difficult situations. Bought him time. Time to think, sometimes time to allow the other person to think. He often avoided eye contact at these times also, another way of protecting the moment, giving him control. Often he used this technique without even realising it. He used it now.

"Henry."

Pause.

"Have you ever suspected that your parents, or Paige for that matter, were not...all they seemed to be." This was met by a blank look.

"You know, the late nights….

...days away on business…

...things that other normal families do that you never do?" Stan looked up into Henry's eyes.

"The lack of family and friends?"

Henry looked down, away from Stan. "No." His voice had a questioning tone, unsure of himself. "I always think Mom and Dad work too hard, you know? The travel agency is hard work. Late nights, going to see clients, all that stuff. I don't really know what they do."

"Henry, their work was not all it seemed. We have recently had reason to believe they had...what you might call a second life, totally separate to what you saw day to day."

There was a long pause, Stan giving Henry time to process, to wonder.

"What, you mean they have another family?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm talking about...activities that they took part in….

...Secret stuff that nobody knew about."

"Secret stuff?" Henry's expression was puzzled. _This is really hard for him to understand,_ Stan thought. _Certainly doesn't appear to be acting, or covering anything up._ Now is not the time to rush this. Keep up the slowly slowly approach.

"You see Henry, we now believe that your Mom and Dad were part of a network of people, who tried to access information to send to another country, to help that other country keep tabs on what America is up to. Information that ordinary citizens don't have access to. People like your parents find ways to learn this stuff, and pass it on." Stan brought in another pause, waiting to see Henry's reaction.

"Like spies, you mean?"

"Yes Henry, like spies. In fact, that might be a perfect description for what they did."

Another long pause. Stan watched Henry's body language closely, seeing him close up slightly. Bracing for more bad news.

"So why the past tense, Stan? You said ' _what they did'_ not 'do'. Are my Mom and Dad in trouble Stan?"

"The truth is, Henry, I really don't know where they are. We… the FBI don't know. They've not been into work today or yesterday. We believe they have..." He did not want to use the words 'run away', emotive words likely to be remembered by Henry later on. Instead he changed tack. "I'm sure your parents are on a train, or plane, or boat out of here somewhere.

"They're not coming back, right?"

"I'm really sorry Henry." Another pause. "I don't think they will." Another pause. "There is a chance that they'll be stopped before they can leave, and then you'll be able to see them, talk to them. But I think the reality is that they're gone."

After a long minute, during which Henry seemed to shrink in size, colour fading from his face. "Which country are you talking about? Russia?"

This hit Stan like a truck. He had not expected Henry to make this leap so soon. "Why do you think Russia, Henry?" Suspicions aroused again.

"It's the obvious one. Am I right?"

Stan exhaled, long and slow, looking down at his feet. He finally looked up at his friend's son. "Yes Henry. We believe both your parents were born in Russia, and that's where they're returning to."

"What about Paige? Where's Paige? She wasn't born in Russia!" Henry asked the question looking directly into Beeman's eyes, his gaze steady.

Stan had expected this question, the answer already planned in his mind. "Henry, this is something I don't know with any real certainty, but it is highly likely that your parents, and maybe the people they were working with, had started brainwashing Paige to see things from their point of view." He paused, waiting for some reaction. After a period of silence, he continued. "I'm pretty sure Paige has gone with them Henry…..I'm so sorry to have to give you this news." He knew full well of Paige's involvement – that much was clear from his encounter with the Jennings in the garage last night.

He watched the boys face carefully. Tears were forming in Henry's eyes, and he shook his head. "You must have this wrong! My Mom and Dad aren't bad people!" He suddenly stood up, and turned his back on Stan. Stan made no attempt to speak, or move, just let the boy run through his emotions.

Henry's shoulders shook as he started to sob. "It can't be true! It can't be!" Stan stood and moved alongside, well within Henry's personal zone but not touching. Letting him know he was there, giving him comfort, an option to make contact but not overtly offering an embrace. Henry was staring down at the ground. "Are you sure, are you really sure?"

"I wish I wasn't Henry. I was your Dad's best friend. I didn't want to believe it either. The facts were there in black and white." _And your father admitted it to my face!_ he thought, the anger of betrayal still close to the surface. One day, maybe, he would tell Henry how he came to suspect them, and the steps he took to check his suspicions, but that day was a long way off. "Henry, you're gonna need time and space to think this all through. It's really important that you listen to me now. Miss Henderson knows some of what I've told you, but not everything, not the Russian part. It's up to you how much you tell her, but I would advise you to think carefully what you tell anyone from now on. People won't always be understanding."

"What will happen to me Stan? Am I all alone?"

"No Henry. I know that your parents would want me to be there to help and support you, so that's what I'm going to do. You can stay here if you like, or you can come back and stay with me for a few days, at least until you figure out what it is you want for your future."

More than anything, Stan wanted to be on hand, to help protect Henry from the inevitable shit-storm that would be raging around his young head, although there were limits to what he could do. New Hampshire was too far for him to keep commuting back to, and who knows what would happen to Henry if word got out amongst his classmates. The likelihood was that the authorities would bring him in for questioning anyway, and Stan wanted to be as close as possible, if that would be allowed. At least he could fight for it in his own territory. There were a number of field offices between his home office in Washington and New Hampshire, better to be near home.

Stan noticed Joy in the distance, staring in their direction.

"Henry? You coming back with me? There'll be plenty of time to talk, for you to ask questions on the way."

"I guess."

They walked back towards the entrance. Henry's tutor put a hand on his shoulder, took him away out of sight. Agent Beeman watched them for a moment, contemplating their conversation. His gut feeling was that this was all news to Henry, his actions and emotions seemed to confirm this. Plus, he doubted that Henry would have divulged the phone call if Philip and Elizabeth had dropped the news that they were leaving. Beeman doubted Henry had the skills and experience to hide this, and it would have been evident in his demeanor and the way he responded when given the news.

He turned and walked back to the Principals office. Warner saw him in immediately.

"Agent Beeman. A terrible business, terrible. The poor boy. I'm sure we can keep him on here until, how shall I put this, alternative arrangements can be made, unless you think his fees might be paid from some other source?"

Beeman gave Warner a long look that needed no words. His eventual response was curt and completely devoid of warmth. "We'll be in touch."


	5. Chapter 4

Four

The drive back to Fall's Church was long, and Stan was ready for bed when they arrived home. He had been expecting Henry to be quiet, which he was for most of the journey. Stan made many attempts to start a conversation, skirting around the central issue, knowing that Henry would ask questions when he was good and ready. More than anything, Stan was trying to stay alert, having been up since five that morning and driving for most of that.

In a way he was glad Henry was apparently taking time to process the new information he'd been landed with. Was it a good sign that he wasn't asking lots of questions, or should he be reacting more overtly, crying, shouting, demanding answers? Over the years Stan had seen plenty of people given bad news about their loved ones, different people reacted in a wide variety of ways. Henry seemed to be calm, but that was probably because he had withdrawn into himself.

Half way through the journey, after an hour of silence save for the road noise constantly accompanying them, Henry had suddenly asked "I guess I'm not going back to St Edwards. I'll be regarded as a freak."

"Henry, nobody will think that. Sure, they'll probably want to ask you a lot of questions, and they'll have their opinions, but I'm sure your true friends will stick by you." This was met with another long period of silence. Stan had tried various angles to draw him out, but nothing had seemed to work.

They entered the house, Renee had waited up to meet them in the hallway, offering a hug to Henry who now pretty much dwarfed her. Renee said a few platitudes that didn't really add anything, and Henry disappeared to his room, one he had stayed in many times previously when his parents had phoned late in the evening to say they had been delayed or were staying away.

"All those times, when they phoned to say they were working late, or having to stay out of town, I'm guessing they were up to no good." Renee looked at Stan for a reaction, but he was staring away at the wall, lost in thought.

Eventually he shook his head, "I still find it hard to believe."

"That they could do this and get away with it for such a long time?" Renee asked.

"They were so convincing, you know? I spent a lot of enjoyable hours with them, especially Philip. We were great friends. Just goes to show you can't ever really, fully know someone."

Renee seemed to grasp his meaning. "Unless they are the type who can't hide their feelings. We've been together a long time now, Stan. I hope you feel you know everything about me."

Stan's reply was automatic, "Of course. I think I'd know if you were hiding something." He reached out to accept her embrace, his mind in a spin.


	6. Chapter 5

Five

The next few days were difficult. Stan had to work, the fallout from the discovery needed every man on the ground. The ramifications were being discussed far and wide within the Federal Bureau of Investigation's ranks. If two apparently everyday 'normal' people, with two everyday 'normal' children could have lived for so long within the community, running a business whilst operating as KGB officers, then who could they trust? It was long known that the KGB had been running illegals for decades, but often they stood out in one way or another. The Jennings just did not stand out like that. No trace of Russian accents, nothing said or done to arouse suspicion, they had blended in perfectly.

Stan himself had been closest to them, and there had been a few occasions when he had cause to wonder about their strange hours. Each time he had found nothing to support his concerns, and he had put it down to his suspicious mind, which went with the job. The Jennings habit of being away fit in with their jobs, after all how many travel agents did not travel from time to time? Long distance travel could not always fit with coming home at regular times, so their occasional return home in the early hours gave Stan a convenient hook to hang his suspicious hat on. It had only been in the days before they had fled that he had started to doubt his previous reasons for excusing their behaviour. If only he had done thorough background checks the first time he had wondered about them, years ago, they would probably be doing time by now, or deported long ago.

Sat at his desk, he came across the artists impressions of the couple described by many witnesses to their activities. He saw the likeness to Philip and Elizabeth so clearly, even if they had been in disguise at the time, wearing various wigs and altering their appearance.

He thought again about his girlfriend, Renee, wondering if there was any reason to suspect her. There was none, which would make her an even better agent than the Jennings, if she was one.

Renee was granted a few days leave to keep Henry company, her role not related to the case at hand. She spent a lot of time skirting around the edge of Henry's space, who spent most of his days immersed in video games.

The evenings were short, the office keeping Stan to long hours. Many questions were asked, many of which were loosely aimed at Beemans friendship with KGB illegals living right next door to him for many years. Beeman fended most of these off, but there was an atmosphere wherever he went.

After a day of this, Dennis called him in for a chat. "You sure you're handling this, Stan? A lot of men would be angry at themselves, feeling foolish. I know we need all hands here, but under the circumstances…...Do you want to take time off to let things settle?"

"No." Stan's reply was immediate. He wanted it to be known that he was tough enough to cope with this, most of which from his colleagues was school playground stuff really. "I'm needed here. I knew them better than anybody, and if there's something that comes up, I could probably make some sense of it."

So he stayed.

The evidence was certainly stacked up. Indisputable hard evidence recovered from the house was being studied in great detail, trying to find clues that might lead them to more illegals. Boxes of paperwork was being trawled through in fine detail, everything being checked for possible links to known Soviet networks.

The Jennings laundry room had been checked in the first house sweep, but it had taken a more thorough search to find the cupboard hidden behind the machines. A while later it was realised that there was a discrepancy in the spacing of some walls, and a second secret compartment was found behind a circuit breaker panel. A range of surveillance equipment, encryption and decryption equipment, weapons, photographic developing materials, and various items used for disguises had been found, all the sort of stuff no normal person had in their house. The rest of the house yielded nothing out of the ordinary, but now internally it was unrecognizable from the family home it had been for more than a decade. Items that could potentially be used to hide evidence were also removed for further analysis.

One of many questions that remained unanswered was the many disguises the Jennings had used. The FBI were certain they used wigs to change their appearance, but none were found in the house. That meant they had to be stored elsewhere, probably at a safe house somewhere, or a lock-up unit. The chances were that these would never be found except by chance, and even then may not come to the attention of the FBI. Searching the city of Washington and surrounding suburbs for such a find was a massive job, but one of many to be considered.

The job was growing by the hour.


	7. Chapter 6

Six

Paige had been waiting for a signal, and was beginning to wonder if anyone would show up. She had spent a long time sat on a park bench having sent a help message to the Rezidentura. Being sat here, the pages of a book open in front of her, the same lines being read over and over without being taken in, gave her plenty of time to think. Thinking about her parents, about how much she missed them and how she was going to cope without their support and guidance. She was very close to them, although she and her mum had been at loggerheads on many occasions. She was still in her teens, gradually learning to come to terms with the events of the last four years or so since she discovered her parents true reason for being in the United States.

For Paige there had been a lot of soul searching since then. At first she was shocked to learn that her parents were born in Russia, moving to America to work in secret for their own country. However she also harboured doubts about her country of birth, believing strongly in her own social conscience. Her mother had influenced Paige's leanings herself, slowly introducing ideas and concepts, backed up by events from the present and the past played out in the media. Over time, Paige started to understand, and up to a point, justify her parents activities to herself.

She had no respect for the leaders of either superpower, and Elizabeth used every available opportunity to demonstrate that the governments on both sides had a lot to answer for. Her over-riding theme was that the US government would do their best to destroy Russia, which would have dire consequences for millions of people. This was Elizabeth's driving force, and it became Paige's also. Her relationship with her mother had grown stronger over recent years, especially as she slowly learned the extent of her skills. Paige did not know the full truth about what her parents really did, even though she seen at first hand how dangerous her mother could be. She was fairly certain that both her parents would use any means available to further their aims, and she had learned to some degree to block out the thoughts that inevitably came to mind about their activities. She had asked her mum directly, and Elizabeth had always denied the more extreme, unpalatable side to their lives, murder, seductions, etc., but Paige was in little doubt that they were both guilty of these and more.

Over the past couple of years, Elizabeth had been training Paige in the art of tradecraft, involving her more and more as her skills developed. Paige was no fool, and was very aware that the KGB were promoting this involvement, but she had decided there were limits to how far she would go. Even though she was a willing participant, part of her knew that she was making herself an enemy of her own country. When she was leaving the country with her parents, only a couple of days before which seemed a lifetime ago now, this self doubt had been plaguing her. The long journey north into Canada, in disguise, separated from her parents by necessity when they joined the train, had brought it home to her. The sight of the guards waiting on the platform as the train pulled in, gave her the perfect reason to alight. Paige had been convinced that at least one of them would be discovered, and it was with a mixed sense of relief and profound heartache that she saw both parents had passed the guards checks. She would never forget the look on both their faces as they passed by seeing her stood on the platform by herself. She had used her newly developed skills to make her way back to Washington DC, not really knowing what the future would hold for her.

Sat there by herself on the park bench, all Paige could do was wait and hope.


	8. Chapter 7

Seven

Stan drove back to the office, deep in thought. He had just spent an hour or so at the premises of DuPont Circle Travel, Philip and Elizabeth's business, although they could no longer lay claim to it, he reflected. He had interviewed the manager, who he had met on a number of occasions in the past and who had previously thought he was just a friend of her employers. She was told to stay whilst agents worked through filing cabinets looking for anything that might be relevant. All other staff were sent home, after being questioned. The FBI agents advised them bluntly that they should start looking for alternative employment, as the company would be closed down with immediate effect.

Back at his desk, whilst he worked alongside his colleagues, all with their own specific tasks, he could concentrate hard for long spells. As had happened a few times, he came across something that forced his personal feelings to surface; the feeling of betrayal by people he thought of as friends. Part anger, part humiliation, a great part of him also feeling the loss of friends, especially Philip whose company he had cherished for six years now.

The loss of friends. _That's rich_ , he thought. What about the people who had disappeared or been found dead, those events linked to Directorate S Illegals? Were Philip and Elizabeth responsible for any of those? The murder of Chris Amadore five years back stuck out like a sore thumb to Stan. OK it had been officially put down to the character called Gregory, but only because Amadore's blood was found on shoes in his apartment – easily planted by the Russians to conveniently put him in the frame. Gregory reportedly had a girlfriend whose appearance bore a good resemblance to Elizabeth. Were they linked? This realization hit Stan like a truck. What if the guys across the street from him were in fact responsible, directly or indirectly? Maybe one of them had stabbed him. He remembered telling Philip that one of his work colleagues had died, Philip playing the concerned neighbour. Perhaps he had known nothing, but looking back now, Stan's hunch was that the pieces seemed to fit together to put the Jennings in the frame. Bastards!

There was a photofit done around the same time of a couple linked to another crime. Looking back now, it was clear that the couple in the sketches could easily be his absent neighbours. They had either been very lucky to survive so long without being discovered, or very good at what they did. Perhaps a mix of both would be nearer to the mark.

He sat back in his chair, lost to his thoughts for a moment. Had they completely played him all these years, or were any of the good times they had shared been real for them? Had Philip felt a genuine friendship towards Stan, or was it all an act? It was obvious now that they must have been great actors, and Stan found himself wondering at the range of skills they must possess, and the lengths the Soviets had gone to, to make this all work so effectively. Reluctantly he had to admit that they were brilliant at what they did. He just hoped that the brave Americans working under cover in Russia were being as successful, if in fact the US had an equivalent illegals program. The balance needed to be maintained. His own time spent working undercover gave him a thorough understanding of the dangers and difficulties they faced.

His emotions were difficult to suppress, but there was a job at hand here. Shaking his head, he leant forward to open another file.


	9. Chapter 8

Eight

All the time Paige sat on the bench reading a book, she had constantly looked for signs that would indicate she was under surveillance, and was reasonably confident that she wasn't. After some considerable time had passed, she noticed a young man approaching her from a distance. He came and sat next to her, opened his briefcase, and ate a sandwich. No words were spoken, and he finished his sandwich and stood up. Unseen, he had left a small tube between the bench slats between them. Paige spotted it, waited a couple of minutes and casually palmed it as she stood up to leave.

Forty-five minutes later she climbed the steps to the rear entrance of a Catholic Church. Checking carefully for people who might be following her, she realised this was a perfect approach to the building, a side street empty of all vehicles, and any pedestrians would stand out clearly. Two men stood aside as she entered, indicating where she should wait. The Church was completely empty, which Paige found strange and unnerving. Her mother had taught her to notice everything around her, looking for certain signs of danger. Being alone in an empty building meeting a stranger she did not know or trust fit the bill as being a risk, but what choice did she have? She was very aware that if the KGB decided she was a security risk, her own life might be in danger. On the other hand, she reasoned that the building had been kept clear so she could talk openly to whoever she was meeting, and the fact that it was a Church was encouraging in itself.

After a few minutes, one of the men approached her and gestured towards a curtained opening. This concealed a confessional seat. As soon as she sat down, a male voice spoke to her from behind a screen.

"Hello Paige."

"Hello?" she replied, uncertainty evident in her voice. The man clearly did not wish to be recognized or later identified.

"You decided not to accompany your parents to Russia." Voiced as a statement, but clearly a question she was meant to answer. His voice was low and soft, not unfriendly but not warm either.

"I did it for my brother Henry. I couldn't leave him here, all alone."

"Philip and Elizabeth clearly thought your best option was with them, after the amount of time and effort they had invested in your upbringing, and training towards our cause."

"I made my decision, and I'll have to live with that now. I still believe I have done the right thing, and that's why I'm here, to ask for help, and advice. Where do I go, what do I do next? Do you have somewhere for me to hide?"

"We know you've been to the safe house where you used to meet Claudia. You must not return there again. There is every chance that the FBI will be watching you from now on. Do you think you have been followed today?"

"Yes, I have been followed, but I don't think it was FBI. I assume it was your guys."

After a short pause, the man continued. "Good, your training so far has paid off. You're quite right, our surveillance confirms your thoughts. However, you cannot continue your work, not for a long time yet. We will find a way to get in touch when we feel the time is right. You must understand that the FBI will be very suspicious of you, and you'll remain on their radar for months, possibly years. For that reason, you must lead a normal life, without involvement in any activities, neither ours nor other political causes. You must be completely above suspicion in order to return to continue where your parents left off. Your training is nowhere near complete, and there is much to do to prepare you for service, should that be necessary in the future."

"I understand."

"Before they left, your parents sent us a message. This confirmed that your neighbour, Agent Beeman, confronted you and is now aware of your involvement. The fact that he let you all leave is in your favour, as he can not admit that to his superiors. Despite this, he might find ways to notify them without incriminating himself, so we cannot take that chance.

"Your best hope is to turn yourself in, Paige, do you understand? So far your work has been low level, you have not yet been involved in anything the FBI would be greatly interested in, although they don't know that yet. You must prepare for questioning, and we will help with that."

Paige was silent for a few moments, taking this all in. "Surely I'll go to jail? That's not helping Henry. Will you protect him?"

"Henry is not of concern at present. We don't believe he will come to any harm. He is likely to be questioned, but as he knows nothing, he can't tell them anything useful. We believe he will be made a ward of the American government, and will continue his schooling. After that, who knows, but we have considered this in some detail, and there is every possibility of you being able to maintain contact with him.

"Regarding your own fate, again we have spent some time analysing how this will work for you. If you can be trained to fool the American's lie detectors, which is entirely possible, then you should remain free to continue your work as an intern. Have you contacted your employers?"

"Yes, I rang in sick yesterday morning."

"That's good, you did the right thing. Now Paige, there are some very simple techniques you can learn in a short space of time, and we anticipate that you should be ready in a couple of days to present yourself to the authorities. In the meantime, we will keep you safe. The man outside the booth will show you the way out."

"Thank you." She paused, unsure how to word her next statement. The disembodied voice behind the screen had gradually softened into a more kindly tone, giving her some reassurance and confidence to ask the question she had really come to ask.

"Is there something else, Paige?"

"I want to speak to Henry before I turn myself in. I know I can find a way, if you can help me?"

There was a momentary silence, before the voice responded, "That will be dangerous, but I can see why you would want to. You must be very, very careful about this. Also about what you say to him."

"Of course, I just need a few minutes with him, to let him know I'm around and haven't gone to Russia. I would prefer him to find that out from me, rather than Stan telling him."

"I understand. Your work with us so far will not go unrewarded. Accompany the man waiting for you to a safe house and we will work out how best to help you. Good luck, Paige."


	10. Chapter 9

Nine

Stan came home on the third evening, earlier than usual, to find Henry staring through the window at his home opposite, still guarded by police.

"I have some stuff in there," Henry said. "Do you think I'll be allowed in?"

Stan thought for a moment. "Henry, your home…..it's not your home any longer. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah, I know. I just want to look, you know, one last time."

Stan, who knew full well that there was little of value to Henry in there, all his belongings also having been removed. "You might find it very difficult, the whole house has been gone over with a fine toothed comb. You sure you want to see that?"

"I have a couple of things I'd like to look for. At least a photograph, something I can keep. I just.." He stopped himself, afraid of losing control.

The look on Henry's face told Stan all he needed to know. He tried to put himself in the young guy's shoes for a moment, appreciate what he must be feeling. He was still unconvinced it would help Henry. Still, it might give him some closure. "OK, let's go over now, if you're sure?"

With a look at Renee, who nodded silent agreement they left the room, made the short walk across the street, Beeman's ID badge giving him access past the uniforms, who flashed a grimace at his back.

Entering the hallway of the house that Henry had spent virtually all his life in, his family home, now reduced to a crime scene, Henry was very quiet. They moved from room to room, Stan staying back to give him space. A photograph of the Family Jennings, Philip, Elizabeth, Paige and Henry, had been removed from it's frame and lay loose on a table. Henry picked it up, looked at it wordlessly for a minute, then glanced at Stan who nodded. Placing it carefully in his pocket, Henry carried on his slow walk around.

Up the stairs to his bedroom, all the furniture having been moved about and carelessly replaced. Some of his possessions still remained, posters on walls had been taken down and left on the bed, his books had all been taken off and put back in piles instead of rows.

Stan watched Henry pick up a model car that must have held some sentimental value, recognizing it as a Chevrolet Camaro Z28 similar to one the Jennings had owned. "Can I take this, Stan?"

That was totally against protocol, he knew, but what the hell, it would have been taken if it was thought to be of value. He gave Henry a conspiratorial wink and answered, "Sure, just keep it between us. Nobody knows, OK?"

As they made their way back downstairs, Henry asked "Is any of this stuff left behind mine, or are the FBI claiming everything, including my whole life?"

"It's not just the FBI, Henry. The US government, other agencies that report to the government, they're all involved in this now. Your life as you knew it ceased to exist when your parents left. I'm sorry to be so... blunt, but that's the reality. Who knows what will happen now, I sure as hell don't Henry, but I assure you I'll do everything in my power to help you get through this." As they continued into the hallway towards the front door, he continued, "You have to start working towards a new life now. You have to be strong, mentally and physically for what lies ahead. I'll be here to support you, guide you where you need it, but mostly it's up to you. You know by now that your parents, however wrong you or I think it was, were amazingly strong to have done what they did. I'm sure you have it in you to survive this and come out a much stronger person than you already are."

Henry was taking this all in, and stood still, contemplating Stan's words of advice. "All I know is, I don't know anything." He swept his arm around him, indicating his former home. "Everything I thought was real turned out not to be."

"Except for some things, hey? Your school friends, they like you for who you are. Hell, I've seen you play hockey – you're a demon! Your Dad taught you some of that. Who knows, maybe you have some of his strength and your mothers spirit."

Henry's head dropped again, at the thought of his lost family. "Do you….do you think I'll ever see them again?"

This was something Stan had given a lot of thought over the past few days. "I'm sure you will, Henry. We're in this so-called 'Cold War', our two countries always at each others throats, but both countries know that if it went to full scale nuclear war, there would be nothing left of either country. I truly believe that, in time, things will improve. What we need is leaders who will talk to each other rather than wave swords around. When that happens, and I'm convinced it will at some point in our future, I'm sure you'll be able to travel to meet them. Might be a couple of years, maybe more, but if there's a way to do it I'm sure you'll find it."

These words seemed to give Henry some comfort, and while Stan knew they were the right words to say at that time, inwardly he did not share the conviction he had voiced. He just hoped, for the boys sake, that his words came true.

After one last wistful glance around, they left, Henry's last view of his childhood home imprinted on his mind forever.

Along the street, Paige sat in a car waiting for an opportunity to speak to her brother, watched him and her former neighbour return to the Beemans house. She would have to wait some more.


	11. Chapter 10

Ten

Stan opened a beer, and turned round as Renee walked into the kitchen. He waved his bottle in the direction of the TV in the room next door, where Henry sat apparently watching a news program.

"Is he really watching the news?" Stan asked.

"Elizabeth told me he hated current affairs." Renee came and stood side by side to Stan, facing in Henry's direction. "How did it go at the house."

"Much as you'd expect. He was quiet, didn't say much at all. I think he was holding together well, but I still can't really get where he is with all this. Seems to be coping ok. What's he like during the day?"

"Quiet, withdrawn. Then he talks for a while, mainly asking about school, and contacting his friends. I spoke to the local education officer, we're going in to see him tomorrow first thing. You'll be working?"

"I could get an hour off. The department is planning to bring him in tomorrow. I'll see if I can put them off till the afternoon."

"You mean they're going to interview him?"

"It won't be a full scale, all out interrogation. More low key. I've already told them I don't think he knew anything, but you know." He shrugged. "Procedure. I've not told him yet. Guess now is as good a time as any." He walked through to sit down next to Henry.

Outside, Paige sat watching in the darkness. She knew the layout of the Beeman's, having been visiting the last 5 odd years. She had been sat for the last couple of hours hidden behind a laurel bush, feeling the cold for most of the time, but resolved to succeed in her personal mission. She saw Stan move from the kitchen to the lounge, and move out of sight, although she had earlier seen her brother disappear in the same direction, so she would just wait. It was after nine pm now, the safe house key allowed her to remain out all night if need be.

Another hour passed, and finally she saw Henry leave through the kitchen in the direction of the stairs. She watched as a bedroom light went on, the one next to Matthews room. Now she knew which room Henry was staying in. She had already worked out a plan to contact him, she just needed to be patient. Another twenty minutes passed; Stan and Renee turning all the downstairs lights off as they retired for the night. Paige gave it another hour after the front bedroom lights went out, while Henry's room at the back stayed on. She stood up, stretched her legs, and moved around the lawn, staying out of sight as best she could, staying in the shadows. Taking no chances. She had earlier spotted a single piece ladder she had seen Stan use to clear the guttering of leaves. Paige had judged they would be just long enough to achieve her aim, and now she picked them up. She was shocked at how heavy they were, and her first attempt at lifting them ended in failure, making far too much noise for her liking. She watched for lights coming on, ready to run, but none did. She stood back, assessing her plan. She now had a better idea of how to do this, and tried again. Having judged the weight of them she did better second time around, and rested them as quietly as she could against the wall underneath, and just to the side of Henry's window. Slowly, and as quietly as she could, she climbed the steps, cursing her own inability to place her feet quietly on the rungs.

Reaching up, she softly scratched against the window, then pulled back out of sight. There was no movement, so another thirty seconds later she repeated the exercise. She had to do this another time before Henry opened the curtains and spotted Paige, who gestured to him with a finger to her lips, and opened the window.

Paige whispered, "Henry. Don't make a sound."

The shock and disbelief was evident on Henry's face. He whispered back, "Paige! What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone."

"There's no time to talk properly. I need to see you, to explain everything. Can you get out, tomorrow evening?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I talked to Renee about going to see Josh sometime, and she said it would be okay."

"It needs to be after dark, Henry. It's very dangerous for me. This is really important to understand, you must not say anything to anyone. Act normal, then after we've spoken I'm going to turn myself in. There are some things I need to say to you first, so you can put some perspective on all this."

They arranged the meeting point, then Paige backed down the ladder, replaced it exactly as she had found it, and slipped away into the darkness.


	12. Chapter 11

Eleven

Stan walked in with Henry to the FBI offices just before eleven o'clock, Alongside him, Henry expression gave away his feelings, and as they turned a corridor Dennis was walking towards them.

"Hey Henry, don't look so worried! This isn't going to hurt, I promise you. We just need to fill in some gaps in our knowledge." He turned to Stan. "Agent Booth is going to be in on this, Stan." He saw Beeman's expression, and continued, "I know we said you'd be involved, but the powers that be say that you're _too_ involved, too close to this."

Stan nodded, and turning to Henry, put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be ok. I'm right next door. Don't forget, you're not under arrest, no-one will keep you here, you're here voluntarily to help. Just give honest answers and you'll be fine."

Henry nodded, and followed Dennis into an interview room a few doors along.

As they sat down, Dennis asked him if he wanted a drink, Henry asked for a Pepsi Cola. Dennis ran through the format of the interview, aiming to put Henry at his ease.

Over an hour later, they emerged from the room, leaving Henry to wait for Stan.

Dennis took Beeman to one side, lowering his voice so that only they could be heard. He clearly didn't want their colleagues catching any of what he had to say.

"How'd it go?" Stan asked.

"Well, I believe you're right, he had no idea at all about Philip and Elizabeth. He seems genuinely surprised at it all, and I'm sure I would've caught him out if he knew anything."

"That's good. What's the next step? Are you satisfied?"

Dennis paused, then replied, "Not completely. He's holding back on something, Stan. I'm not sure what, but I get a feeling there's something he's not telling us."

"Like what?"

"Wish I knew."

Stan thought for a while. "Did he mention his parents rang him at St Edwards the night they disappeared?"

"Yes, and it all seems a bit strange, just like he said. We've no proof they've actually left the country, so I'm wondering if they've been in touch again, somehow. Maybe they're going to try and take him away while our backs are turned. Maybe they've contacted him from Russia some other way. I don't know, but something's bugging me, Stan."

"You want me to work on him?"

"No. With your permission, I'd like to put a tail on him. Can you cut him a little slack, let him out of the house? See where he leads us?"

Stan knew this was the right plan, but he felt conflicted nonetheless. He knew he would be letting Henry walk into a possible trap which might implicate him, possibly incriminate him, but if the end game would be the capture of KGB Directorate S Illegals….. He had given them a chance to escape, because they were his friends. If they chose to risk a return to the area that was their look out, and he would not be able or willing to help them then.

"Sure. He asked if he could go out this evening to see a friend who lives a mile or so away. I'll probably be here until late anyway. Keep me posted?"

As Stan took Henry home, he made no attempt to push him for any detail of the interview. He knew that being interviewed was an ordeal, especially at his young age. Plus he didn't want Henry asking him any questions he might not want to answer. So he let Henry keep his silence. At their house he simply said, "You did great today, Henry. Just relax a little this afternoon, OK?"


	13. Chapter 12

Twelve

Paige waited across the road from bar and grill in Arlington. She had arrived early so she could watch the area, memorising the people in the vicinity, watching for the watchers. Despite her training, she knew that a good tail was sometimes very hard to spot. She was on heightened alert, very aware of the dangerous situation she was exposing herself to.

As the time approached for Henry's bus service to arrive, she kept an eye on cars pulling up, paying careful attention to the actions of the drivers immediately after stopping. Did they get out and walk away, or stay in the car? Were they positioned before or after the bus stop? So much to be aware of, and she did not feel completely confident in her abilities. She questioned herself for the tenth time, "Is this wise, am I putting Henry in danger also?" All she could do was be ultra-vigilant.

A few more minutes passed before the bus came into view. She watched Henry step down, glance around to see if he could catch sight of his sister, and then turn around, disappearing up the steps into the bar.

Paige kept up her vigil on the possible watchers for a few minutes. The driver of one car returned, opened his car door and drove away. Nothing about his demeanour looked suspicious. There were a couple of other people who Paige had noted, both of whom carried on walking. She watched until they were lost to sight. There was just one possible left, a Buick she had seen arrive after the bus stopped, and had parked up 50 yards behind. There were two occupants, and the view they had gave them clear line of sight to the entrance. After stopping, the passenger had got out and walked into the bar. Paige thought there was a good chance they had Henry under surveillance.

The position Paige occupied gave her a problem. She would have to cross the road in view of the Buick. Her best option was to cross behind the car, which meant her circling back around the block to emerge in the street behind them, then taking a long walk around the far side of the building to enter via the rear entrance. It would take an extra five minutes at least, but she had no other option.

Stan was at his desk when Dave came in, shouting "Hey guys, listen up!" He waited until everyone was listening, then continued, "Take a look at these."

Dave dropped two large photographs on the desk. Stan knew as soon as he saw the photo's that he was looking at Elizabeth and Philip, in disguise, looking very different to their everyday appearance, but there was no doubt in his mind. Some of his colleagues had a close look, comparing the new images to ones they had on file, eventually agreeing amongst themselves. Stan was already talking to Dave.

"Where were these taken?" Stan asked.

"Toronto airport, early hours of the morning after the Jennings disappeared. None of the other passengers look like Paige Jennings, though, not even remotely."

"So it looks like Paige stayed behind. Why? Why would she stay?" The answer came as he spoke. "Henry! Where are we with the surveillance on Henry Jennings?" Stan looked around at the room for an answer.

"Patterson and Gomez are on him. I'll radio them."

Seconds later the voice of Gomez came over the radio. "Yeah, we're still on him. He's in a bar in Arlington. Patterson is inside. So far the target is sitting by himself drinking a soda."

Stan took the radio. "Gomez, it's Beeman. You're looking for Paige Jennings. Henry might be meeting her there. She may be in disguise, and it could be a good one. Anyone that fits the bill approaches Henry, you stay on them. We now believe Paige did not leave the country with her parents."

"OK, I'll let Patterson know."

The back door to the tavern led to a corridor past the toilet doors. Paige looked through the doorway into the bar area, spotting Henry sat near the window. She scrutinized a few faces, spotting the passenger from the Buick sat in a booth on the far side of the room. From his position Paige would be difficult to spot if she stayed put. Trouble was, if she walked straight up to Henry, she would more than likely be arrested in a matter of seconds.

"Now or never." She said to herself, and walked into the bar area.


	14. Chapter 13

Thirteen

Henry sat by himself, wondering where his sister was. They'd arranged to meet ten minutes ago, and she'd told him she would be early. He did as Paige told him the night before, stay calm, don't keep looking around for her, she'd make contact when she was ready. So he sat with a book out in front of him, pretending to read, but too wound up to take anything in.

In his peripheral vision he saw someone walk past his booth. As the person passed he heard the words, "Ladies toilet, two minutes." Involuntarily he looked up, he'd recognized her voice, but from behind it didn't look like Paige. He looked down at his watch. He was thinking to himself, _She's asking me to go into the ladies room!_ seeing a mental image of him walking in, women screaming and running out, or more likely shouting at him.

He waited a minute longer, then stood up and sauntered across towards the corridor to the right of the bar. As he approached the ladies room the door opened and a woman walked out. The door stayed open and he realised Paige was holding it open. As she saw him she beckoned him in and shut the door behind them. She ushered him into a cubicle and told him to sit on the toilet, while she locked the door.

"Listen Henry, time is real short. I think you're being followed. When he comes in, I'll sit in front of you while you lift your legs up. That way if they look under the door they'll only see my feet. When they've gone we can talk properly, OK?"

Patterson had seen Henry stand up and walk towards the rear of the bar area. He'd immediately got up and followed him, saw him disappear down the corridor. Once he had sight down the passageway he knew he had three options. The obvious one was the men's room, so he walked in, and straight away knew the place was empty. Both stall doors were open. He backed out and walked straight into the door opposite. There was a row of three cubicles, all had their doors shut. He knelt down to look under, and was surprised that he didn't see feet under the first couple. He pushed the doors open and saw something fall from the door lock area. Clearly someone had not wanted these occupying and had jammed the doors shut. He knelt down again and saw a pair of feet under the third cubicle. He rapped on the door.

"FBI, open up!"

A female voice shouted "Oohhh! Do you mind? I'm a little, erm, inconvenienced at the moment!"

"This is important, ma'am. I'm sorry. I have to check this."

"This is an outrage. Firstly a rude young man barged me out of the way and ran out the back, now you're interrupting me in the lavatory! What is the world coming to? I'll be finished in a couple of minutes."

Patterson was already on his way out and running out of the back door. Shouting into his radio "Gomez, he's done a runner! Meet me round the back!"

Running out he looked around. There was any number of ways the target could have gone. He ran to the end of the short alley behind the bar, when he saw Gomez running from the main street in his direction.

"You see him?" he shouted. Gomez shook his head in response. "SHIT! Let's fan out – circle round and spread out." He spoke into his radio, knowing that this was going to look real bad, "Sir, looks like we lost him."

"What the hell happened?"

"Nobody approached him or spoke to him, I'm sure of that. A couple of people walked past him, only one was female, but she was too big to match Paige's description, a large girl with long blond hair. Anyways, he walked into the rear of the bar, out the back door and vanished. We're spreading out to fan the streets."

"Backup will be with you in five. Keep looking."

Patterson knew he was in for a severe ribbing from he workmates later if they were outwitted by a teenager.


	15. Chapter 14

Fourteen

Paige and Henry wasted no time, leaving the bar by the front entrance, moving away out of sight of the Buick into the alley opposite, making full use of the darkness and shadows. They kept walking for ten minutes until well clear of the area, and found a bench to sit on. The air was unseasonably warm, but a cool breeze wafted around them as they sat. The square was a good choice. It had four alleyways, and being in a residential area there were very few people around, making life difficult for anyone trying to approach them.

Paige had avoided answering Henry's questions whilst walking from the bar, concentrating instead on checking they were not being followed. Now, she turned to Henry.

"I'm sorry we've had to meet like this, under these, circumstances."

Henry replied, "It's ok, I've been given the third degree by the FBI today. I know what that's like, believe me."

"They questioned you? What did they ask?"

"They were quite gentle at first, telling me I had nothing to worry about. But the questions got more tough as they went along. They were trying to find out what I knew about Mom and Dad. And you." He looked at Paige. "Are you a spy, Paige? You're acting like one. I didn't recognize you."

Paige looked down at her clothing. "I've been eating a lot recently, look at all this weight I've put on!" They both laughed a little, and Paige took off the long blond wig she'd used as a disguise, and stripped off the large overcoat and the padding underneath, dropping it in the bin next to the bench, then sat back down. She became serious again. "No, Henry, I'm not a spy."

"So why all this? Why are the FBI after you? You could just turn yourself in and get questioned like I did. Unless you know stuff that I don't." He left the sentence hanging in mid-air, full of suspicion and doubt.

"Henry, this is hard to say. Real hard. Yes, I knew about Mom and Dad. I had suspected something was not right for years, you know, Mom and Dad coming home in the early hours, I mean, how many travel agents do that? I worked it all out a few years back, put together a few clues to their secret activities. At first they denied it, but eventually they came clean. I don't really know what they did, but I think it was low level stuff mostly, passing information back to their handlers, who passed it back to Russia," She paused, allowing time for this to sink in. She knew a lot more than she was letting on, but this was not the time to start filling Henry's head with more that he could cope with right now.

"So are they Russians?"

"Yes, Henry. They were born in Russia, trained by the KGB to live in America as spies. Who would suspect them, a 'normal' family with two kids, running a business? It was the perfect cover. We are the unfortunate, unwilling victims in all this."

"Tell me about it."

"I know this will be really hard to understand Henry, but Mom and Dad really do love us, you know?"

"Funny way of showing it."

"I know. When they realised their cover was blown, they had to leave. Real quick. They came round my place and literally grabbed my bag, told me to come with them immediately, no time to discuss it. I think they already had a plan in place, you know it all seemed planned, but they didn't tell me until we were well out of the city that we weren't taking you with us. They reasoned with me that you wouldn't leave anyway without making a scene, and they were unlikely to get you past airport customs. They told me that they'd make contact with you when things had settled down, and they hoped that one day we'd all be able to meet up again."

Henry was silent for a moment. "So why did you stay behind, Paige? Why not just run to Russia like them?"

"Lots of reasons. I had plenty of time to think in the car, and on the train up to Canada. I couldn't stand the thought of you left behind here. I know there's a chance I'll end up behind bars, but at least you'll be able to visit, and we'll have plenty of time to catch up. Plus I'm American, not Russian, I have my studies and career to think about, as long as I've not completely ruined my life with all this. The decision was made when the train pulled into a station and I saw police boarding the train. I knew they were looking for us. Mom and Dad were in great disguises, but I felt certain the police would arrest me. So I got off. As the train pulled out of the station Mom and Dad were still on the train, and my last look at them was the pain on their faces as they saw me on the platform. I'll never forget that."

There was another long pause, before Henry asked, "Stan, and the FBI, think you were training to be a spy."

"They think wrong, Henry. Sure, I'd been out with Mom a few times. She was teaching me how to look after myself, mainly. You know we'd been sparring?"

"What, you and Mom?"

"Yes. We were walking late one night on the way back to the car, and some guys approached us. At first Mom tried talking to them but one of them got nasty. Mom just kinda took him out, left him lying on the ground. I'm not sure if she killed him, but he didn't look good. After that, I asked her to teach me self-defense, so she did."

"So Mom could have killed someone?"

"We didn't wait around to find out. But the reason I told you is that's how Mom started my training." Paige was in full denial mode now. "I never did anything illegal, Henry. I drove the car for Mom a few times, she showed me how to watch for people following me, how to lose them if I needed to, but that's all."

This seemed to satisfy her younger brother somewhat. "So why are you running now, if you haven't broken any laws?"

"The thing is, Henry, Stan came looking for us in the garage underneath my apartment block. He knows that Mom and Dad were escaping, and he let them go. It got very heated though, Stan was waving his gun around, yelling at us to get on the ground, but Dad talked him round. And we went, just like that. That means that Stan could be in a lot of trouble if his bosses find out, so you have to keep that to yourself, you understand?"

Henry nodded. "So, Stan thinks you're a spy like Mom and Dad, but he can't say why he knows?"

"That's pretty much it. Still, I think the FBI will go hard on me, try to make it stick. Try to make me confess to being a spy. They'll be wanting someone to be the fall guy for what they think Mom and Dad were doing, and an arrest would look good. I don't have much time, Henry, so I want you to know that, whatever happens, I'll do whatever I can to help you when you need it."

Paige became aware of someone in the shadows of the alley they had walked down, and looking at the next exit from the square she saw a second figure. Seconds later she heard footsteps approaching from behind, and looking around saw two men close behind. Paige was satisfied that they had covered the main points she needed to talk through with Henry, there would be more time later to fill in more gaps.

The voice behind was calm, even. No sign of panic, confident they had this covered. "FBI, stay where you are."

Paige stood up. "It's OK, I'm not going to run."


	16. Chapter 15

Fifteen

Twenty four hours later. Stan, Dennis and two department heads were gathered round a conference table discussing the state of affairs. Dennis was summing up.

"So, it looks like Paige was in advanced training as a Directorate S agent, even if she might not have been fully aware of the extent of her parents activities, or where her training would eventually lead her. She reacted with what appeared to be genuine surprise when we suggested the KGB might have been very gradually leading her into a life of crime. What we do suspect though, is that she is not being entirely truthful with us. Some of her answers were inconsistent with the polygraph readings, so it seems likely that she has been trained in polygraph countermeasures. We can't absolutely guarantee she's innocent, so it's above my pay grade where we go from here. We could continue to keep her under surveillance, but it's highly likely that if, and that's no small if, she has been operating as a KGB agent, or at least is in training, then the KGB will fully expect us to be watching her. That makes it a long term operation for us, as they will probably keep her on the back burner for quite some time, months or years even. In my opinion it just doesn't makes sense for us to keep her on our radar. As for Henry, he seems to be innocent, and completely unaware of the Jennings' double life." Dennis finished his appraisal of the past few hours of interviews, and leant back in his chair.

"Do we have enough to charge Paige?" Stan asked.

"Not really. She has not admitted to anything other than driving her mother around, doing some combat training which she maintains was her way of making sure she can handle herself in a crisis. Nothing of any substance. Unless you count fooling Patterson and Gomez. So, for now we're releasing them both."

Stan breathed a sigh of relief. Was his relief just for the two youngsters he'd known for years, or for himself also? Having two Directorate S officers working in his back yard for half a decade was bad enough, without the thought that a third was being developed right under his nose, and a child at that. "So, no definite links to any suspected KGB illegals activity over the past few years?"

"None that we can confirm. Unless more evidence comes to light, it looks like this is the end of the road for this part of the investigation. From this point on we need to concentrate on learning what we can from the Jennings house, the methods they employed to go about their business, and see if we can find any clues to other potential KGB agents." Dennis looked at Stan. "Is something else bothering you?"

Stan shook his head. "One problem solved, another rears it's head." He sighed, and continued. "I've just come from a meeting with the State Department. It seems there are strong opinions that their residency in the US should be questioned. If it is decided to revoke their citizenship, they could be sent to Moscow. As Paige is an adult, she would have to employ a lawyer to fight her case, but for Henry it's much less clear. As far as I know there isn't a precedent for this, so his future is uncertain."

Dennis was thoughtful for a moment, internally conflicted. "Stan, what I'm about to tell you is confidential. During our interview, Henry was clearly angry about his situation. Angry at his parents, at his sister, but mostly at the world around him for letting this happen. He feels let down, like this should never have been allowed to happen to him. Understandable emotions, but he's gone way past feeling sorry for himself. He actually said to me that he wants to make amends. He wants Russia to pay for ruining his life."

Stan stared back at Dennis. "He actually said that?"

Nodding, Dennis continued, "Yeah, he asked me if the US has spies living under cover in Russia, like his parents. I replied that I really don't know for certain, but I presume so. He pleaded with me to talk to someone at the CIA so he could be considered for training."

This came as a shock to Beeman, who was momentarily lost for words.

"Don't worry Stan. I think it's highly unlikely he'll have the qualities and aptitude to train as a spy. Nonetheless, I'll talk to our friends on The Hill, see what transpires."

Dennis got up and left the office.

Stan's thoughts ran away with him. The fallout from the Jennings' departure was going to run and run. Paige, she'd probably be ok, but what about Henry? Training as a spy, moving to Russia? His next logical thought was Renee, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Was now the time to bring this up at work? He'd been planning to find a way to do some low level background checks without raising any flags. If she was a genuine US citizen, and had no involvement in any spying activities, the slightest hint to any of his colleagues would bring about an open investigation and would most likely signal the end of his relationship with Renee. He was uncomfortably aware that he was no stranger to sleeping with the enemy, and was determined that he would find out the truth about his girlfriend. One subject he could definitely not discuss with her was Henry's future plans. He would need to have a word with Henry before they arrived home, make certain he hadn't hinted to Renee at his planned future career as a spy. Somehow he didn't think he had, as Stan himself would be the logical choice for Henry to discuss this with.

That aside, he had a difficult task ahead helping Henry adjust to the next chapter of his life. No parents, everybody knowing why he no longer had parents, coming to terms with the ramifications and implications of their activities. The poor kid would have to grow a thick skin, and fast.

Stan stood up, went over the to window, looking out at the world. He wondered what sort of life Philip and Elizabeth would have now they were back in their country of birth. Probably be treated as heroes, he thought with a humourless laugh. He picked up his jacket from the back of his chair and went to find Henry and Paige.


	17. Chapter 16

Sixteen

July 1990. Dulles Airport Washington.

A tall man, who appeared to be in his early twenties although it was difficult to tell due to his dark beard and moustache, stood up in the departures lounge as his flight was called. Walking upright and with purpose he made his way to the boarding gate. He had passed through customs earlier without a hitch, although no-one really knew the inner turmoil creating a battle with his outer calm.

As he followed the other passengers out of the hall into the corridor leading to the plane, he had time to mentally relax. He needed to control the tense, jangling feeling in the back of his legs, a steady surge of adrenaline in anticipation of a shout behind him. Where to run to though? He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder, instead using a mind control trick he had learned in his training which very effectively took his mind off stress and danger when it was called for. Few passengers made conversation with strangers in this situation, preferring to keep their own company within their own groups, mostly couples or families. He entered the plane, smiled at the attendant at the entrance, and made his way to his seat.

Twelve minutes later the plane started it's journey, taxi-ing out to the main runway. There it stopped, facing down the runway. The bearded man looked out of his window, across to the airport buildings, wondering at this latest delay. The tension was building up inside his stomach, radiating out into his muscles with a faint tingling sensation that he had become very familiar with over the last couple of years. He knew it was fear, but he also knew how to keep it under control. After all, this was only a very mildly dangerous situation for him. All he had done so far was boarded a plane under an assumed identity. Very illegal, but an offence he knew would not be pursued by the authorities if he was rumbled, as it was a higher authority that had given him this identity in the first place. It would be an inconvenience of course if he was discovered to be travelling under a false name, but more vitally it would be a failure. To stumble at this first hurdle, this first real test of his new career and new life, would be a massive disappointment.

All his training over the last thirty months, the intense workload he had endured and enjoyed, had prepared him for much more tense situations and dramas, all very likely to be encountered in his new life in Russia. Life as an undercover operative, employed by the CIA but completely deniable. It would be at times dull and repetitive, other times extremely dangerous and frightening, but all for a worthwhile cause, to protect his beloved US of A, place of his birth and upbringing. His motivation was extremely strong, to right the wrongs that had been done to his country by Russia. And for breaking apart his family that should never have existed in the US. That was his over-riding motivation.

He thought again about his family.

He had cut himself off from his parents a long time ago now. The last time they rang whilst he was at his sister's apartment he had told them not to contact him again. At the time he was having great difficulty handling the hurt he felt from what he saw as their betrayal of him, keeping their secrets from him all his life, never really letting him in to their inner lives. He felt similar animosity towards his sister also for similar reasons. She was harder to dodge until he moved to a college too far away for her to travel to, and gradually he managed to lose touch with her, preferring the assistance and support of the CIA's training programme he had soon become enveloped by.

His parents were back into his thoughts again. They were living in the country he was about to slip into, but the chances of encountering them was extremely slim. Nothing official had been heard about them since they had left three years ago, although the CIA had heard that they were living a new life under different names in Russia, very well protected due to fear of US reprisal attacks.

The woman in the seat next to him was becoming a little agitated. As the plane sat there, engines running but the plane stationary, the man took in the passengers around him, some completely unperturbed, others chattering excitedly. The lady to his left spoke to him in thickly accented English. "What's the problem? Delays, delays, I've never known a place like America. Why can't we just set off?"

"Don't worry, the pilot will make the time up, you'll see." The man turned back to look through the window, not keen to make further conversation. Moments later, the plane's engines started to build up speed, and then the plane jolted forward as the brakes were released, and seconds later they were airborne, the ground falling away rapidly.

This was it now, he was on his way. Mikhail Nikolaev had a new life to start. Henry Jennings was no longer.


End file.
